1970s List Discussion and Suggestions (Lists Project Vol. 3)

[swo17]

Just find this: 29 December 1979. I can't say anything about the reliability of the source, though.

I said to submit it to IMDb, not me. Though if it's "usually listed as a 1979 film," as you say, I would have expected to see more evidence than that.

[the preacher]

I know, I know, but IMDb's guys often ignore my updates. ](*,)

[Gregory]

I've seen several books that list it as a 1980 film. 1987 is clearly wrong (due to a lack of any theatrical release dates, just a TV premiere), but probably nothing wrong with waiting until the next decade round to discuss it and vote for it.

[domino harvey]

And he'd probably get a better chance of getting others to seek it out since the deadline for this round is less than a month away

[domino harvey]

the Day of the Dolphin (Mike Nichols 1973) No film could ever live up to the premise here-- "George C Scott trains dolphins to talk and inadvertently learns of a dolphin-aided plan to assassinate the president"-- but Nichols appears to have been so concerned with being taken seriously that the film is a cinematic no man's zone of dead weight, one scene of dramatically inert nothingness after another. I thought there were so many ways a film that sounds this crazy could come off, but "boring" wasn't one I considered (and that's a word I studiously try to avoid), especially with Buck Henry penning the script. What the heck happened here?

the Projectionist (Harry Hurwitz 1971) A slovenly projectionist imagines himself inserted into a movie serial composed of process shots and inserts from dozens of films, some public domain and some decidedly not-- at various points, for instance, John Garfield in We Were Strangers and Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca get intercut in the Flash Gordon-esque serial adventures our hero conjures, which left me curious as to how this film ever secured a DVD release more than involved in the picture itself. And that's a problem, because I was with the film for the first ten or fifteen minutes, but the movie doesn't really have any ideas outside of the one and for such a short film, it sure felt long. This might have made a nice short, maybe, but as a feature film it's a failure. Ina Balin from From the Terrace and Rodney Dangerfield (in a dramatic role) are in this for some reason too.

See No Evil (Richard Fleischer 1971) An unworthy successor to other, far-superior blind woman in peril flicks like the Spiral Staircase and Wait Until Dark, this is a needlessly mean-spirited and one-note thriller wherein recently sightless Mia Farrow is degraded over and over under the auspices of suspense. By the time she was forced to crawl around barefoot in a muddy clay pit I was about done and yet the film soldiered on, consistently putting her in peril and then not even giving her the agency to do anything herself and thus necessitating a heroic male rescue more than once. Vom. Sorry zedz, but I think you may have misremembered this one if you prefer it to the examples above.

[swo17]

Ina Balin from From the Terrace

Ina Balin is from only one movie and that is The Patsy.

[domino harvey]

I almost used that as my example too! No one's gonna credit her for the Projectionist, that's for sure

[Cold Bishop]

I know, I know, but IMDb's guys often ignore my updates. ](*,)

This is the oldest source I can find via Google Books (Link). It looks (from snippet view) like a festival lineup. If you can track it down, you might find out whether its 1979 or 1980.

[Gregory]

That issue is from 1979, and A Intrusa definitely was complete that year and seems to have had some screenings in South America then, but I believe it had wider international distribution in 1980, which is why many English-language books list it as 1980. To change the IMDb date, you'd probably have to submit an exact release date and place.

[bamwc2]

Viewing Log:

Bay of Blood (Mario Bava, 1971): This was probably the last of Bava's major works from this era that I had left unseen, and this delicious tale of greed and murder proved to be a treat well worth waiting for. While no masterpiece from the Italian horror maestro, the film still details the murderous plans of those interested in obtaining control of the titular bay in a deviously enjoyable manner that puts most other horror flicks from the era to shame. Given the rather large cast and the way that the film drifts from one character to another (usually as they get offed) there weren't exactly any standout performances in the film, but the various actors and actresses here do a perfectly competent job with their material. Even though it won't make my list, this is still a solid thriller and an easy recommendation.

The Grapes of Death (Jean Rollin, 1978): Fresh off of two years of directing nothing but hardcore pornography, director Jean Rollin returned to the erotic/horror hybrid formula that he is rightly remembered for today. The film begins with Élisabeth and her friend as they travel by train to a remote French village where they are to meet her fiance, when a semi-rational zombie with a rotting face kills her friend and sends Élisabeth running for the hills. Élisabeth soon meets up with a handful of survivors and learns that the area went mad after a fall wine festival began transforming participants into the murderous undead, and still must find her fiance.... There's not much more to say. It's typical Rollin: characters get killed, women lose their tops (though the star, Marie-Georges Pascal, who previously couldn't keep her clothes on in I Am Frigid...Why?, inexplicably remains clothed throughout), and the entire cast seems to be consumed by that most French of emotions, ennui. It's not great material, but still fun enough for a recommendation.

The Herd (Zeki Ökten, 1979): The Herd tells the story of a family of poor rural Turkish sheep herders who pin their hopes for the upcoming year on the successful delivery and sale of their herd. Unfortunately, this task proves more difficult then it first appears since they begin losing sheep along the way and internal family conflicts threaten to rip them apart. Sirvan (the elder son of the family's head) and his infertile wife Berivan tend to be the main focus of this ensemble drama, but each cast member gets their time in front of the camera. The film was quite moving and the emotional progress of the story between Sirvan, his wife, and his father was more than worth the price of admission alone. Another easy recommendation.

India Song (Marguerite Duras, 1975): Having watched Son nom de Venise dans Calcutta désert earlier in the project, I thought it wise to see the Duras's original version of that film. That film imposed India Song's sound track over architectural footage, and came off as a cold, and isolated experience. However, what I could gather of India Song impressed me in much the same way. The film, which goes a full ten minutes before introducing its first human form, spends that time also focusing its vision on things instead of people. When we are introduced to our trio of main characters, they are aloof. Their dialogue is narrated instead of spoken and they generally don't even look at one another. I wish that there was more that I could say about this, but unfortunately, I watched this on a French DVD that did not have English subtitles. I used a fan subs to read along with the dialogue, but there were large segments missing and the timing was off. I'll reserve judgment until I can have a better viewing experience with it.

Let Joy Reign Supreme (Bertrand Tavernier, 1975): Set some 60 years before the French Revolution, Bertrand Tavernier's second feature length film, has that event cast a pall over the occurrences in the film (especially in its final scene). The film tells the story of Philippe Noiret's regent, a libertine who spends his time whoring and living a life of hedonism as he attempts to fight off a creeping insanity. I find Tavernier a frustrating director. He made both one of my favorite and one of my least favorite films of the 80s (Coup de torchon and 'Round Midnight respectively). Thankfully this is another high point in his oeuvre. Seventeenth century France is brought to life in vivid detail in front of the camera, and the story itself is a fun journey. I have to admit that I'm not sure why this one hasn't gotten more attention. It certainly deserves it.

Ludwig (Luchino Visconti 1972): Despite high IMDB ratings, I have to agree with the critical consensus of this bloated mess. Although the film contains some truly gorgeous imagery and expertly framed shots by Visconti, this nearly four hour long epic is a total snooze fest. About the only interesting thing that I can say about this is that I played The Beast Within: A Gabriel Knight Mystery couple of months ago, where
King Ludwig's insanity was explained as being the result of a lycanthropy. Now there's the movie that Visconti should have made!

Reminiscences of a Journey to Lithuania (Jonas Mekas, 1972): I can't say anything better about this masterpiece than Knives said about it here...just "ditto".

Saint Jack (Peter Bogdanovich, 1979): Ben Gazzara plays loveable rogue Jack Flowers in this dramedy about a man whose get rich quick scheme centers on running a south Asian brothel, but runs afoul of local Singaporean gangsters that don't want him there. While it's far from Bogdanovich's best film of the decade, I didn't find it nearly to be the disaster that Domino thought it was. Instead, it struck me as a rather mixed bag with some aspects that worked and others that didn't. Denholm Elliott was wonderful in it. I had forgotten what a truly great actor he was.

[domino harvey]

I definitely don't think it's a disaster, more like a small-scale fizzle. I assume you've seen Room With a View and September already but if you haven't, they're a good pair of Denholm Elliott flicks for the next decade list

[thirtyframesasecond]

Denholm Elliott's also in The Signalman, the mid 70s BBC adaptation of the Charles Dickens ghost story. It's terrific.

[colinr0380]

And he has one of the best scenes in Bad Timing as the cuckolded husband!

[Tommaso]

Spotlight #2: Duvidha (Mani Kaul)

Unless I'm missing something, it doesn't appear that this stunning film has ever been discussed even in passing on this forum. There is, however, a quite insightful thread about the film (including loads of great screenshots) over at Mubi. This is my first Kaul film, and perhaps many of them are like this, but it's unlike any Indian film I've seen before, made with a level of bold artistry that makes even Satyajit Ray look mainstream in comparison. (For example, note how the static shots from Charulata are used even more radically here.) It's not quite as bold as The Color of Pomegranates, though it does at least seem to have been filmed on the same planet.

Stunning film, many thanks for the recommendation, swo. It's my first Kaul film, too (never heard of this filmmaker before, actually), so I feel a little uncomfortable evaluating or pigeon-holing it, but apart from Parajanov this also forcibly reminded me of Pasolini's "Arabian Nights" in its fairytale character and its confrontation of erotic desire with money-making ideals (as exemplified by the ghost and the real husband, respectively). Unlike in Pasolini, the ending is sorrowful with the wife succumbing to the demands of tradition and society, though, and her fulfillment falling back into the realm where it came from, the ghost-like. Thus, in this fairy-tale, I suppose there is a critical agenda at work. But for the moment, let me just say that I enjoyed the striking visuals very much. Criterion stuff, if you ask me, and indeed they or someone else should do some work to get the colours of the otherwise fine print restored to what I suppose was their original glory...

[swo17]

Did you see it on DVD or some other way? I originally saw a TV broadcast and based my comments on that. I've since acquired the Shemaroo DVD and, from sampling it, am pleased to report that it's a huge step up in picture quality. Even more vivid colors, and what looks like significantly more of the image intact on all sides of the frame. I got mine from this ebay seller and was delighted to see it show up in only 9 days, despite an estimated delivery time of up to a month.

[Tommaso]

No idea, but I suppose what I saw was the DVD from the set you mentioned. Colours aren't that bad actually, but blue skies aren't what they should be, even though there was a restoration notice at the end of the film. But it still looked a bit like unrestored Agfacolor, or some of the colour Ray films from AE versus the great looking Indian disc of "The Home and the World" which everyone will soon be able to enjoy from Eclipse (I hope it's the same transfer).Whatever it looked, it didn't really diminish my enjoyment of the film in any case.

[Mike_S]

If we're talking essential Denholm Elliott then check out A Private Function from 1984. For the next round obviously.

[matrixschmatrix]

Fear Eats the Soul

I haven't actually watched a lot of Fassbinder before, but I'm going to be seeking it out after having watched this. This movie was stunning. Hard to watch for the majority of its length- the scenes of absolutely everyone being an asshole to the central couple are particularly difficult to stomach (as they obviously were for Ali), but there isn't much of the movie where there isn't at least an undercurrent of tragedy. Nonetheless, it's a movie that feels painfully real, for all the Brechtian bluntness with which the characters say everything that's on their mind immediately and to one another's face, and perhaps because of the cruelty of the world in which they move (and the degree to which they're not people one would ever, ever see in a Hollywood movie) the central couple's relationship is a magical one, and one that you pull for desperately regardless of anything happening to it, internally or externally. For all that Ali doesn't get to express himself in particularly complex ways, and Emmi winds up talking mostly in aphorisms, there's a real interiority to the characters, and they really seem to fit with one another- the few times when they're with each other, alone, and comfortable, are oases in the desert of human compassion that the movie mostly depicts.

It's cuttingly insightful, too- when people come around, it's not because they see the beauty of the central relationship, but because their selfishness and immediate needs outweigh their prejudice. And one is reminded that for all the inner beauty of the central couple, they're fallible, and they fail one another at any number of crucial points, and fail to recognize themselves in others. But they're allowed grace, allowed something that is at least a bit beyond a reflection of their times and their circumstances, and the incisiveness with which the movie dissects the prejudices they carry because of those things makes the grace and beauty of the aspects that go beyond them all the more moving.

[domino harvey]

I'm trying to put in some last minute 70s watching, though I gathered my unwatched titles together and, uh, I won't have time to watch over a hundred films, even with the forthcoming days off from school/work due to icy weather. Still, I'm gonna do what I can do:

Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore (Martin Scorsese 1974) The sitcom adaptation came on E! every morning before school when I was in middle school, so it's like stepping into an alternate dimension to see the back end of the original film (Had I been a fan of M*A*S*H I'm sure I'd have been equally disoriented). The obvious strongest element here is Ellen Burstyn's Oscar-winning performance-- I was surprised at how funny she played her widowed mother, and while I can imagine her antics could be tiring to some, I found them refreshing. It was also interesting to see that the Tommy in the film was kind of a spoiled little shit (who also runs around with bad-girl Jodie Foster) as opposed to the standard-issue sitcom moppet the series provided. I could have done without the Harvey Keitel blowout, but otherwise Scorsese mostly stays away from his typical preoccupations with negative masculinity. Also, opening the film with a Duel in the Sun-esque studio era prologue set high expectations quickly dashed by the 70s cinema aesthetic!

Being There (Hal Ashby 1979) So, after seeing this bandied about as the preferred alternative to Forrest Gump and Rain Man, I finally got around to seeing this and, well, I'll co-sign half that directive. My biggest problem with this and Rain Man is that since the central figure is incapable of human emotional understanding of the world around him, the rest of the film is a one-note examination of how others interact with nothing. This is taken for satire by fans of this film, but it's pretty weak and obvious. It also hurts the film that Chance the Gardener's aphorisms are all hard to accept as life-changing in the manner presented by the film. For as much as people rag on Forrest Gump, that character has self-awareness, emotional depth, and agency, and is the only one of the three where the joke isn't on the slow-minded central figure-- that alone would be enough to align my sympathies with it, but that it's the superior film of the three to boot makes it even easier.

Bonnie's Kids (Arthur Marks 1973) Sorry Cold Bishop and Quentin Tarantino, but I didn't enjoy this at all. I don't know what to say-- even the idea that the central figures turn out to be self-involved brats just like everyone else in the pic isn't explored to the depths or extremes that it could. There's one truly shocking moment when one of the girls drives a paramour to suicide, and as tasteless and unlikely as this turn of events is, at least it has the balls to make like Degrassi and go there. Still, it has one of the greatest taglines in all of movie history:

Spoiler

"Bonnie's Kids: Thank God she only had two!"

California Suite (Herb Ross 1978) The same complaints I seem to always have with Neil Simon scripts are quadrupled here: it plays like a long, mostly unfunny sitcom. This anthology film, foolishly intercut instead of presented in segments, wants to exist in the manner of Hotel of the the VIPs but it utterly fails. Two of the four storylines are completely disposable: Elaine May discovers hubby Walter Matthau is trying to hide a passed-out prostitute in his hotel room & mismatched performers Richard Pryor and Bill Cosby attempt to have a peaceful vacation in the midst of Wacky Racers-level mishaps. The most most promising storyline finds Maggie Smith and her beard Michael Caine attending the Oscars ceremony and in a shameless moment of awarding themselves, the Oscars gave Smith the Oscar for her role as an Oscar loser. Are your eyes rolling into the back of your head yet? At least it's a good performance, which is more than can be said for anyone else in this film. I've saved the worst for last, though: Jane Fonda and Alan Alda play bickering long-divorced parents trying to figure out custody of their teenage daughter. If you ever need an example of what "Too clever" writing looks like, your search is over: every single phony, nauseous, noxious line these two usually talented actors exchange is so overwritten and cute that David Mamet and Aaron Sorkin jammin' together would sound like Cassavetes in comparison.

Marathon Man (John Schlesinger 1976) A victim of the legacy of its memorable villain played by Laurence Olivier in an inexplicably Oscar-nominated supporting role. The conspiracy and espionage afoot here is pretty lame even before we discover what's going on and it all becomes even lamer. Think back on the driving forces behind the behaviors of everyone in this film and ask yourself "Is it safe-- to assume that nothing in this movie really makes sense if you actually think about it?"

the Nickel Ride (Robert Mulligan 1974) What happens when a classically-trained Hollywood director tries to reconcile the new 70s aesthetic to his sheen and professional approach? Nothing. Not a goddamn thing. I hated this film, which couldn't be bothered to provide either a coherent narrative or a good reason to lack one, and I counted down the minutes until it ended. As Rex Reed might say, "It may only cost a Nickel, but there's no sense in giving a Mulligan to this dreary Ride!"

99 and 44/100% Dead (John Frankenheimer 1974) And here's what happens when a talented Hollywood director attempts to transpose the weirdness of Asian crime films (Suzuki, Street Fighter, etc) to America: half-assed bizarre elements and a painfully forced sense of whimsy. Nothing about the novelty of this film comes off as novel-- rather, everything is seen through the veneer of flop-sweat, and it's exhausting to watch this film fall over itself to be stylish at the service of nothing.

Save the Tiger (John G. Avildsen 1973) I became uneasy as the film unraveled, as this looked like your garden variety mid-life crisis mope-a-thon, but Jack Lemmon (in a justly Oscar-winning role) brings a strong lived-in despair too convincing to be reduced to mere melodramatic tics or narrative points. This is a film that understands something elemental about aging, the idea that the world we felt comfortable in has passed and what's left in its wake is not only different, but hostile to what we knew and loved (and even the ignorance is a kind of hostility, a reflection of the perceived importance of our beloved era). There's a great moment early on: Lemmon joylessly prepares for the day by taking a shower, getting dressed, reading his paper, and at the end of this ritual he turns on the stereo to listen to some music and a look of peace creeps into his face, only to be immediately crumbled away by his wife's brusque dismissal of his music. It's a wonderfully observed moment and the film is filled with them.

[Cold Bishop]

Bonnie's Kids (Arthur Marks 1973) Sorry Cold Bishop and Quentin Tarantino, but I didn't enjoy this at all.

I never promised you'd like it. Just that it epitomizes the Grindhouse experience, for better or worse, and I stand by that. However, if you want to see a movie where everyone's selfishness is taken to shocking depths and extreme: Candy Snatchers. But I'm guessing this is a "fool you twice" situation.

Oh,, and you really should see Ashby's The Landlord. If I recall, you really dug Forman's Taking Off, and I've always felt the two were in the same vein, both tonally and aesthetically, except taking on the racial gap instead of the generational one. His best film, IMO.

[swo17]

I'm trying to put in some last minute 70s watching, though I gathered my unwatched titles together and, uh, I won't have time to watch over a hundred films, even with the forthcoming days off from school/work due to icy weather.

Tell us what's on your unwatched list and let us help you whittle it down! Like, for instance, I could have told you not to go anywhere near California Suite.

Being There (Hal Ashby 1979) bandied about as the preferred alternative to Forrest Gump and Rain Man

That would actually be Every Man for Himself and God Against All aka The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser.

P.S. I also found Alice to be a pleasant surprise, though this is the first I've heard of there being a TV adaptation. 8-[

[matrixschmatrix]

Actually, I should do a write-up dump too.

Sleuth

Hard to rate this movie, as it feels sort of self consciously small- as with The Ruling Class, it feels like the target it's nailing is both easy and fairly irrelevant by the 70s- but who gives a shit, this is incredibly fun. Olivier in particular seems to be having the time of his life, camping up a storm and letting out all the foppishness that his dignified roles require that he channel and hide. It feels like the role was made for him, the quintessential actor who's always playing at something and never being anything, and all the business with Captain Jack and the costumes and the myriad props the movie allows him seem tailor made for the way he likes to perform. Caine's marvelous, too, of course, but his character is somewhat more grounded and thus less insane than Olivier's- only for a few minutes does he get to really let go and play like a little child.

Dunno if loving this movie is predicated on loving detective fiction in the first place, but I adore both wholeheartedly. This is actually pretty handily my favorite of the Mankiewicz films I've seen.

Enter the Dragon

I'd seen this before, of course- as a midnight movie, with a fun audience- but I got the remastered blu of this for Christmas. As always, it's lumpy, and I really wish they'd killed John Saxon and had Jim Kelly survive to the end of the movie (as was apparently going to happen before John Saxon's agent got involved) but it's a difficult movie to criticize, and one I could happily watch over and over again- and any movie that establishes a character as heroic via him knocking out a couple of racist cops and stealing their car is going to be one with a special place in my heart. For all that the individual scenes don't necessarily flow one to the next, they're all delightful, and it doesn't feel like there's a bunch of stuff I wish they'd speed past to get to the good stuff. I know there's a whole universe of movies like this one, many of which do any given aspect of this one as well or better, but this one just works for me, and has a special place in my heart.

I never noticed before this viewing how much this is an adaptation of Dr. No- though the villain and his plan actually make more sense here, by my lights.

Investigation of a Citizen Above Suspicion

It's hard to say what my expectations were going into this, but the movie we see isn't what I expected- it's got satirical elements, and the police force as we see it is definitely heightened and made both more Orwellian and more ludicrous than one imagines any real life force was likely to be- but it feels like a psychologized character study more than strictly a study of the system. Volante is marvelous, suggesting now a man of force and intelligence, now a childish man driven by insecurities, while maintaining a coherence to the character, and the movie as a whole seems to have some resonance with Amarcord's implicit thesis, that totalitarianism and authoritarianism are the products of childish men who never matured past the emotional age of twelve or so. It doesn't entirely stick with me, and it doesn't have the hypnotic quality of something like The Conformist, nor the titanic force of a strictly political movie like The Battle of Algiers- but I would guess that this is a movie that grows with re-viewings, and could eventually become something that meant a lot to me.

Badlands

I saw this after I had seen and been mildly disappointed by The Thin Red Line, and I'd begun to wonder if I really loved Terrence Malick or just The Tree of Life. This answered that question nicely- it doesn't feel as Malicky as his later work, but in some ways, it's all the stronger for it, coming off a bit more direct and a little less dreamlike than the shape everything else I've seen from him takes. It's a tricky movie tonally, since on the one hand it evokes the safe space relationship and two against the world feeling of something like Moonrise Kingdom (particularly in the section when Sheen and Spacek are living together in the woods) while also getting across the somewhat blank lack of affect that allows Sheen to kill without seemingly understanding the weight of what he does. It manages it beautifully, letting you get in Spacek's headspace to the degree that you understand both why she stays and why she leaves, what makes Sheen charming and what makes him scary, while all the while showing as much interest in the environments through which the characters move as it does in the characters themselves. I was speaking to a friend about it, one who is generally a Malick fan, and she said she hated it- she didn't like that it had you falling in love a bit with a sociopath like Martin Sheen. I think that's one of the things I love about it.

The Visitor

This is one of those movies that exists in an uneasy space, mostly too competently put together to be laughably bad but too bizarre and full of terrible ideas to be good, per se. It's worth a watch, in any case- a sort of strange Rosemary's Baby story where space Satan is a 12 year old girl trying to get her mom to get pregnant, and space God is John Huston, sort of protecting her (but doing a fairly lousy job of it.) There are a lot of scenes of the girl messing things up for people, there's a lot of scenes of the mom getting hit on, seduced, or treated really horribly (particularly after she's in a wheelchair) and a lot of scenes of Huston casually striding about. There are also a few scenes of Shelly Winters heroically beating up a child, and a few of Franco Nero in a terrifying wig as space Jesus. It's the kind of thing that makes more sense when you watch it at two in the morning.

The Taking of Pelham One Two Three

It seems like there was a trend in the 70s for incredibly and self-consiously New Yorky movies- Dog Day Afternoon, Taxi Driver, Manhattan- but this might take the cake. I don't think there's a single New Yorker stereotype that's not in here, the charming old Jewish man, the angry black woman, the constantly praying Latina, the harassed public servants, on and on and on. And it's delightful. I don't know if it's a suspenseful comedy or a hilarious suspense movie, but either way it's this great, crystalline little classic, the kind of thing that decides to do something relatively small and do it absolutely perfectly. Matthau is as funny as he ever has been in anything, but he's also convincingly competent and good at what he's doing while also being sort of a schmuck, someone who's probably going to lose this thing 40% of the time, and who gets tricked by things you'd expect him to get tricked by. It's cold at times, it's not a movie that keeps the gloves on in terms of keeping people safe, but it's nonetheless a dead charmer and one of those movies that's both pretty great and something I could watch with my parents.

(I can reformat this to look like Dom's and everyone else's if that's helpful)

[domino harvey]

Olivier in particular seems to be having the time of his life, camping up a storm and letting out all the foppishness that his dignified roles require that he channel and hide.

Par for the course for Olivier in this era, and of course the Academy still loved him regardless! For my money the best wacky Olivier perf is his Nazi hunter in the Boys From Brazil, which is out via region-free Blu-ray in the UK-- plus you get wholesome Gregory Peck as Josef Mengele! It's not list-worthy but it's a lot of fun

[domino harvey]

P.S. I also found Alice to be a pleasant surprise, though this is the first I've heard of there being a TV adaptation. 8-[

Well, I have no idea how it holds up if you're not ~12 years old (or watching it in first run in the 70s/80s) but I liked it a lot and all the diner characters from the movie are present-- and Vic Tayback reprises his role from the film as Mel. The series is best known for Polly Holliday's iconic take on Flo (Diane Ladd's role), with her signature catchphrase "Kiss my grits!" Confusingly enough, after Holliday left to star in a Flo spinoff, Belle, the new waitress who replaced Holliday, was played by... Diane Ladd! Here's the opening credits, the lyrics to which I remembered word for word despite not having seen this is at least fifteen years!

[bamwc2]

Thanks for the Denholm Elliott suggestions everyone. I've already seen most of the recommendations, though. Like most men of my generation, I'm most familiar with his performance as Marcus Brody in the Indiana Jones movies, and this will likely always be how I remember him. However, that comedic performance belies some truly great dramatic work, much of it already mentioned in previous posts. He apparently also lived a very interesting life, detailed in a biography written by his widow. I'll be certain to read it if I ever get the chance.

Viewing Log:

At Long Last Love (Peter Bogdanovich, 1975): With this viewing, I now only have to watch What's Up, Doc? to complete my 70s Bogdanovich collection. I have to admit to appreciating his intentions here more than his results. As an admirer of classic Hollywood, he was the ideal candidate to create a homage to the screwball comedies/musicals of the 1930s. That's exactly what we get here with a duo of mismatched lovers (played by Burt Reynolds, Cybil Shepard, Madeline Kahn, and Duilio Del Prete) who discover that their true loves already lie in another's arms. So many of the tropes from this era are picked for use (WC Fields impersonation, Cole Porter tribute, etc.) that it often felt like I was watching a cinematic checklist rather than an actual narrative. What's more, the musical numbers in here fell flat for me with the exception of John Hillerman and Eileen Brennan ditty. The leads do a fairly good job here, with Reynolds playing beyond what I thought him capable. Hailed as a disaster upon its initial release, it has experienced a sudden critical reevaluation in the months since Fox released it on blu, with some treating it as an overlooked masterpiece. It's not. Perhaps the bile flung against it in '75 was too strong, but that doesn't make it a good movie.

La drôlesse (Jacques Doillon, 1979): François (Claude Hébert) is an early 20ish pariah in a small French village. His inability to meaningfully interact with his parent or neighbors leaves him lonely and desperate enough to abduct 11 year old Mado (Madeleine Desdevises) on her way home from school. Confining her to his attic for several weeks, the two develop a unique friendship (Despite the fact that this film is based on a true story, I can't fathom how a young child could grow to trust and befriend her abductor). Uninterested in sex, the desperate François takes the only thing that he wants from her: companionship. Through a series of lies and manipulation, he somehow convinces Mara to let down her defenses and let him in. The film is very well made with superb performances by ts two leads, but despite the sympathy that the filmmakers clearly feels for the outcast François, I had a hard time "enjoying" a film about keeping a child captive. On a side note, after looking this title up on imdb, I was shocked to see that within a few years after making this film, Hébert quit acting to become a missionary while Desdevises died of cancer in her early teens.

Germany In Autumn (Alexander Kluge, et al, 1978): Made in reaction to the leftwing violence that gripped West Germany in the 1970s, Alexander Kluge's omnibus film showcases the responses of eight of the nation's leading directors. Beginning with the funeral of assassinated capitalist, Hanns-Martin Schleyer, the film is divided between a series of vignettes that culminate in the funerals of the top members of the Baader-Meinhof syndicate that perpetrated the violence. Reviews that I've explored for the film are quick to point out Fassbinder's contribution to the film, and despite the several other highlights, it's not at all difficult to see why. His short contains him, his lover, and his mother all playing versions of themselves in an intimate, near documentary like debate on the violence and conservative government's imposition of martial law. Fassbinder is marvelous in this scene, and goes a long way to remind us of his own origins as an actor.

History Lessons (Danièle Huillet and Jean-Marie Straub, 1972): History Lessons, a faux documentary on the level of Peter Watkins, follows a young man in modern Rome as he interviews three associates of Julius Caesar. This anachronistic film, which is an adaptation of Bertolt Brecht's unfinished novel The Business Affairs of Mr. Julius Caesar, makes no attempt to explain the obvious oddity of having three ancient Romans interacting with figures from the 1970s, but once the viewer excepts this conceit, it's easy to forget about the strangeness and surrender to the film's charms. The discussions themselves are quite fascinating, but the Straub's decision to follow the interviewer's driving around the city in real time (probably composing around 1/3 of the film) left me scratching my head.

Laure (aka Forever Emmanuelle) (Emmanuelle Arsan, et al., 1976): Since my sex/sexuality genre suggestion seems unlikely to go through, I thought that I'd check this one out now. It's of interest since it's billed as starring, written, and directed by the "real Emmanuelle", Emanuelle Arsan (née Marayat Bibidh). After a bit of research, it turns out that these were all lies as her husband Louis-Jacques Rollet-Andriane wrote the original Emmanuelle book, and wrote and co-directed this film as well. It was actually a brilliant marketing ploy in my opinion. Given that everything Emmanuelle is supposed to be told from the female perspective, it would probably have ruined the brand if it came out that she was a male creation. As for the movie, Arsan actually doesn't star, but plays a supporting role. Instead, Jean Rollin discovery Annie Belle plays the titular heroine, the daughter of a preacher, who can quote scripture and expound on the joys of sexual liberation. The film centers on the search by a team of anthropologists for the lost Mara tribe off the coast of southern Asia to witness their festival of rebirth. This might sound like the laziest metaphor in the world were it not for the fact that none of the characters ever change or grow in the slightest. The plot is silly, but the filmmakers do their best to try and elevate the material by keeping it interesting with better cinematography than the picture deserved.

A Swedish Love Story (Roy Andersson, 1970): Rolf Sohlman and Ann-Sofie Kylin play Pär and Annika, young teenagers in love, in this remarkably sweet and entertaining film. There's actually very little in the way of story here: the two youths meet and fall in love amidst chaotic family struggles in both of their lives. The material with the adults never struck me as worth pursuing, but everything with the kids is pitch perfect. From the immature posturing that the two go through to look tough to the innocent adolescent sexual explorations that the couple engage in when her family foolishly lets him stay over while they're away on a business trip seem to perfectly capture experiences of early teen experiences. Yes, this is a lock for my list.